


us traitors never win

by shymin



Series: kyman drabbles [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, First Kisses, Gen, M/M, Mutual Infidelity, season 20 and 21 spoilers, takes place during episode 2107 Doubling Down, this is kyman I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 18:31:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16289600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shymin/pseuds/shymin
Summary: with three of us, honey, it’s a side show.





	us traitors never win

**Author's Note:**

> here I am writing about my notp in honour of my otp. Though in all honesty, just writing this made me like Heidi’s character more - a sort of closure, I suspect.

The first time they meet, they go to the park.

It had rained the night before and most of the night that had followed and the air is still damp with the remains, the soil beneath their feet dark with condensation and dew. Kyle has his jacket zipped halfway up his neck, as far as it will go; the weather is unseasonably cool and leaves a heavy chill in his bones. Beside him, Heidi’s hair shifts in the breeze, concealing her face from view. He takes her red-mittened hand in his and squeezes it.

She seems to have a destination in mind, so he relaxes his shoulders against the wind and lets her lead the way. She takes them to a green metal bench just alongside the path and he sits down beside her.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she says, and when she smiles it’s small but genuine, and her eyes crinkle up at the corners. Kyle returns the smile without thinking twice about it. She has that effect on people, he thinks - happy contagion. 

He holds on to her hand as they make casual conversation. She seems content to not bring up Cartman, so neither of them do; instead skirting easy subjects like the changing weather and the history project they’d been assigned the week prior. It’s easy and comfortable in the way one would make conversation with a stranger at a bus stop; they have both everything and nothing to say to each other.

In a bout of warm silence, Kyle cranes his head back and stares up at the sky. It’s blank and cloudless, an off-white grey that doesn’t quite allow for the sun to get through. He feels Heidi look up from beside him.

“It’s stopped raining,” she says, as if this were exciting news that had only just happened, and not occurred the night before. Kyle can hear the smile in her voice.

“Yeah, it has.” He agrees. He turns to look at her.

She leans inward and kisses him, soft and chaste, and his eyes fall closed instinctually. Kyle has only ever been kissed once before - from the homeschooled girl who’d beaten him in the town spelling bee just over a year ago - and kissing Heidi isn’t so different from then. This time he thinks he feels a little less unsure of himself, but any possibility of confidence is overridden by the sudden dark and twisting guilt that fills him like helium. He wrangles down the sensation and focuses on Heidi; on the insistent pressure of her lips on his own, the warmth of her breath, the tickle of her bangs against his face. She tastes like cherry lip balm and cool rain and something else that Kyle can’t quite put his finger on, something familiar and nostalgic and red-hot. He decides that he likes the taste, but before he can figure out what it is she is pulling away, and he realizes that in his haste to push the guilt from his head he had forgotten to kiss her back. 

She doesn’t look disappointed. There’s a delicate crease between her brows, as if she’s trying to solve an especially tricky equation, and her gaze is downward. It’s not what she wants.

“I’m sorry I’m not him,” Kyle says, low and honest. It’s all he can offer her. The guilt bubbles and boils below the surface. 

She looks up with urgency, more hurt now than she’d been by his lack of enthusiasm in the kiss. “No! It’s not - it’s not you, Kyle, it’s me, I’m just...” She looks down sadly, apologetic. “...It’s nothing personal, you know.”

Kyle nods. “I know,” he replies, and truly means it. The fact doesn’t bother him; it simply is what it is. He turns his gaze back to the sky and takes her hand once more. He runs his tongue over his lips, tastes her chapstick and the rain and that something else he couldn’t place. He remembers what the taste is now. “You wish I was him,” he states.

He knows the feeling now, because he feels the same way.

**Author's Note:**

> me: *doesn’t post anything for an entire year*
> 
> also me: *posts two fics in two days*


End file.
